


A Straight Line Down Through the Heart

by serohtonin



Series: The Long Grift [2]
Category: Glee RPF
Genre: Alcohol, Angst, Hand Jobs, Heart-to-Heart, Heartbreak, M/M, Reunion Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-23
Updated: 2015-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-10 20:55:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,941
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4407335
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/serohtonin/pseuds/serohtonin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Darren confessed his love to Chris weeks ago via a voicemail that has gone unanswered, until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Straight Line Down Through the Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I don't claim the relationships mentioned herein or the nature of Darren's orientation to be the truth. This is a work of fiction and I don't have access to anyone's brain other than my own. The title of this work is taken from the song ["The Origin of Love"](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ODfer_QE0QU&list=PLZgHy3UgBWpxAcHjTjWLvI5BfLiEU_DSr&index=7) from Hedwig and the Angry Inch.

Darren rides away from the Belasco for the last time, his heart filled with the bittersweet acceptance that his dream job has finally ended. He still feels overwhelming love from supporters that have braved the harsh humidity of the July afternoon and blocked the city street to see him.

Sure, he's played shows and met fans at the stage door but this was a whole other level of insanity that Darren handled as gracefully as possible.

He climbed atop his getaway car, speaking sincerely about theater and how much he appreciates everyone who's spent time and money on him. However, it still doesn't feel like enough. He'll never be able to meet and thank each and every one, especially while they're mobbing his vehicle and screeching after him. It's the kind of fanfare he really doesn't deserve after he's treated some people in his life quite horribly. No amount of love from strangers can atone for how he abandoned Chris and suddenly decided a month ago that he needed him again.

They never really had a traditional relationship, hooking up on nights when they needed each other until one day Darren decided he couldn't do it anymore. He convinced himself it would never work out because he could never be free to properly express his love for Chris; he became trapped by the expectations that other people had set for him on who he should be with. It looked better in public to be with someone who was curvy, feminine and not at all like Chris. Darren accepted this for a while and let Chris slowly disappear from his life as if he were never there at all.

He could laugh it off and make professional references during the show about how he knew Chris' taste well, disguising his own heartbreak as a comedic bit for the pleasure of the audience. He remained ever the consummate performer until he broke down at the end of June, leaving a heartfelt voicemail for Chris that went completely unanswered. He faced those next few weeks with the quiet resignation that it had been far too late to make any difference in their relationship. Darren pushed him away and now he had to live with the consequences of a cold shoulder and an empty bed.

Then, on the way downtown from the theater to a party, his phone vibrates with a notification. He looks down, surprised to see Chris' name there after so long. When he opens the text message, he reads two simple words that bring down the high of giving a great final performance:

_Fuck you._

It's a stab that breaks open the fissure in his heart, though Darren supposes he deserves it after a confession of love through a goddamn voice message. He realizes that he could have said it in person so many times if he didn't naively accept other people's well-meaning advice. Still, it makes no difference at this point; he made his decisions and now he has to live with the consequences. He closes the message but clutches his phone tightly, wanting to hold on to Chris' words and let them go at the same time. 

After months of nothing, Darren feels elated that Chris is even communicating with him at all, despite the toxicity of his tone.

All Darren can do is hope Chris will soften and they can be friends again in the future. For now, he'll enjoy the rest of his time in the city.

\----

He goes to a small get together at a restaurant in the Village, downing several drinks and weakly accepting congratulations on another successful Broadway run. He quickly changes the subject to what he's doing next and pretends he isn't haunted by that text from Chris.

He lets the hours pass until he makes a sort of legitimate excuse about catching a flight in the morning for his next job halfway around the world. He exits the building and walks down the stairs to the subway, taking a line back to his apartment. It's late at night and there's hardly anyone on the train except a homeless man sleeping, a woman in hospital scrubs who looks exhausted, and a giggling young twenty-something man and woman nestled close to each other. He smiles at their obliviousness to the world around them, thinking there was a time not too long ago that he felt that way about Chris. They would fall into bed and melt into each other, forgetting about the complications that they faced, at least for a little while.

But now Darren rides back to his apartment alone while Chris is who knows where, promoting his own career. A twinge of pain cuts through him at the thought that they lead separate lives now and can't even pretend to be friends anymore. He sighs and checks his phone, seeing notifications for three missed calls, all from Chris.

His eyebrows draw together in confusion but he pockets his phone, unable to do anything until he gets off the train and walks up the stairs to his apartment. He sits in a chair and stares at his phone, debating what action he should take, if any, when his phone rings.

He vaguely registers the picture flashing on the screen as that of the guy who's been trying to reach him all night.

"H-hello?" Darren answers shakily. "Are you sure you have the right number?"

 _"I should say the same thing."_ Chris chuckles darkly.

"What does that mean? Why the hell are you calling me now?"

_"'S what I need to know. You took the words right outta my mouth, Dare. Why now?"_

"Stop talking in fucking circles and tell me what's going on."

 _"'M tired of it. You pulling me back when we both know you're unavailable. Hell, I'm unavailable now, too. You can't just call me up and tell me you love me. You kinda missed the boat on that ages ago. If you wanted me, you--"_ Chris pauses to sniffle and then continues talking. _"You shoulda fought harder."_

"So you call me at two o'clock in the morning three weeks after the fact just to tell me off? The 'Fuck you' would have sufficed in that department. Thanks a lot for pouring salt into my wound."

_"Your wound? What about mine? You think it was easy for me to accept that you were probably never gonna change? That you had to look over your shoulder every time you snuck into my house to fuck me while you pretended to love someone else?"_

Anger flashes through him. "Exactly. Pretended. I _pretended_ to love her because my heart was somewhere else the whole time. It was with you. You think it was just fucking and that you meant nothing to me. Well you couldn't be further from the truth. You're everything, Chris. _Everything,_ 'cause you and me--We're the same. We're both struggling to keep this between us because it's the only thing we have left that doesn't belong to anyone else. And if it's too late for you to hear that, I don't care. I had to let you know."

There's a long pause at the other end of the line and then Chris swallows. _"I was there."_

"What?" Darren wonders.

 _"Today. Your last show. I snuck into the back of the mezzanine after everyone else came in."_

"What did you--? How did you--? Why?"

 _"I pulled strings that I don't pull very often. I had to see what all the fuss was about. I mean I know you're good. I've seen videos of you playing music but on that stage, you were-- you were something else. You weren't you. You were..._ free. _You commanded that entire fucking room. It's where you belong, even if you had to abandon me to get there."_

Darren grips the edge of the sofa cushion and takes a deep breath, astounded that Chris was right there watching and he didn't even notice. When he finally gains the ability to speak again, he asks, "So when you were there, you--you heard the joke?"

 _"'Course I did. I heard about it weeks ago, Darren. I have this thing on my phone called the Internet,"_ he replies in that patented sarcastic tone that Darren loves, but then he adds sharply, _"You think you're so clever and you can coax me out with your cute little reference that makes all those crazy fan girls scream. Well, guess what? It finally worked. They loved every second. I loved it too. That's the problem."_

"What are you saying?"

_"That I'm insane and I flew into New York for one day to see you. I'm staying here 'til morning when I'm s'posed to be in L.A. at the crack of dawn. I wanted to see if you were happy without me and it seemed like you were so I couldn't understand the phone call."_

Darren coughs, trying to hide that his voice might break any second. "I-I wasn't. Not really. I mean, yes, the role is, _was,"_ he quickly corrects himself with a brief twinge of sadness, "amazing and I couldn't pass it up but all I could do was think about how I screwed up so much with you. I missed you. I still miss you. You needed to hear it. Why didn't you come sooner?"

_"I made every excuse in the book not to. You can't expect me to come running back the instant that you decide it's convenient for you. I have my own career to think about. I have a life."_

"But you did come back. You're still here. Come see me," he blurts out impulsively, remembering a hot summer night years ago where he drove to Chris' place just because he knew he could and then lazily kissed him and stripped him down, trying to show his love in every touch.

Chris responded so beautifully and Darren figured out that no one would ever replace him. Now, however, he's met with resistance.

_"Darren, that is a terrible idea. I--I've had a few drinks and I--"_

"That doesn't matter. Where are you? I'll come to you. I'll find you."

_"That's an even worse idea."_

"Like I said, I don't give a fuck. You gotta feel something or else you would've left hours ago. You wouldn't have even risked going at all. Remember all the times I drove to your place? I wondered if some dude with a camera would catch me but I did it anyway. I'll do anything for you."

_"You can't come to my hotel, Darren. There are a lot of things that we should--"_

"You got to see me. I need to see you. Please. I'll send a car for you. When will we be in the same city again, baby?" 

He nearly slaps a hand over his mouth as soon as the pet name slips out. "I--Fuck. I'm so sorry. I didn't mean--"

 _"Yes you did. It's okay. I--"_ Chris sighs. _"You're right. We should at least talk face-to-face now that you know I'm here. My driver will bring me. I'm sure he'll handle it with discretion. I pay him enough. Text me your address."_

Renewed hope soars through Darren's veins and it feels far better than the alcohol he'd been drinking earlier to numb the pain. He has no idea where Chris is staying but he wishes that it's close and that this won't be some drunken, impulsive one night stand where Chris will go back to ignoring him again.

So he gives Chris his address and waits, his hands trembling as he checks his phone every five minutes. He checks it exactly four times before calling the security guard downstairs and informing him that he may have an incoming guest that needs to be let in as quietly as possible. The guard calls back two minutes later and lets him know that someone is here for him, describing someone that sounds a lot like Chris.

Darren confirms that he is indeed the one he's been waiting for and thinks that he wants so badly for him to stay.

There's another long moment where Darren attempts to smooth his hair until he remembers that Chris always liked it a little wild. Then before he can even think, Chris is on the other side of the peep hole. He doesn't even give him a chance to knock, opening the door himself instead.

"Hey," Darren says, sheepishly ducking his head.

"I know exactly what this is. So please don't pretend." Chris answers back, his brilliant blue eyes bloodshot and with dark circles underneath them. When he grips the door frame and stumbles a little, Darren can smell the whiskey on his breath. "I know you're leaving tomorrow."

"At least come in before you start accusing me of just wanting to get laid. This doesn't have to be another fight, Chris." Darren studies his face calmly, longing to cup his cheek or pull him closer so he can take away the pain; he doesn't, though, not when he caused it. "Just get the fuck in here."

"Alright. Well, I'm already here. I've been right here this whole time, Darren," Chris replies, cautiously stepping around him without touching him at all. "You're the one who keeps leaving."

Darren closes the door and spins to face him. "I'm the one who keeps leaving? What about you? We both have our issues. You say that like it's simple when you know it isn't."

Chris narrows his eyes defiantly. "Don't turn this around on me. You decided to end things. Anyway it doesn't have to be as difficult as we've made it out to be. We get in our each other's way. It's probably best if we just--" 

"What? Ignore it? That obviously hasn't worked because here we are again," Darren reminds him, moving closer.

Chris backs away until he's further into the living room, standing near Darren's oversized couch, but Darren doesn't relent. 

"Remember when this city was ours, Chris? Remember Bryant Park? Battery Park? I know you do. We had something there. We still do even though I messed up. We're not perfect but we can get back to something like that if we both try."

Darren takes Chris' hands in both of his and Chris blinks, his eyes threatening to spill.

"Chris, please. There has to be a reason we keep coming back to each other. It's not so we can keep hurting each other. That's not what I want."

Chris closes his eyes and shakes his head. "That's--That's not what I want either."

"So, please let me be with you, for however long you can stand me. I want to fix this." He drops one of Chris' hand and strokes his cheek, rubbing his thumb across the apple, which always seems to comfort Chris.

"So fix it," Chris challenges as he opens his eyes.

"How?"

Chris' eyes flicker down to Darren's mouth and that's all Darren needs to gently press his lips to Chris' own. Chris, however, pushes him away for a second and Darren can tell even in the low light that Chris is already blushing.

Chris bites his lip adorably, as if reminding himself of the taste before telling Darren, "I don't want gentle. I can't."

Darren nods understandingly, grabbing Chris' face with both hands and kissing him roughly, only giving him about two seconds until he's slipping his tongue inside and then dragging a hand down the front of Chris' shirt. He quickly slides his fingers up under the hem, feeling Chris' sharp inhale as he travels across his stomach.

Chris' hands find their home around Darren's waist, just above his hips, and Chris kisses him back harder. Somehow, Darren breaks away long enough to strip Chris' short sleeve shirt off of him and guide him down to the couch. Darren straddles Chris' thighs, looking straight at him as he takes his own shirt off; he searches for signs of hesitation but there are none. He only sees want and appreciation as Chris runs his hands up Darren's sides and draws circles around his nipples, following the movements with his bright blue eyes. Darren shivers as Chris' fingers trail further down his chest, exploring the skin right above Darren's waistband, a spot that's trimmer than the last time they've seen each other like this.

"You've changed," Chris points out, his eyes widening in amazement. "I'm impressed."

"Thanks." Darren smiles tightly and glances away, failing to explain that working out helped flush away some of the frustration at how he left things with Chris. His eyes water, regret flowing through him.

"Hey, it's okay." Chris smiles back and presses his hand to Darren's cheek. "I mean it's not but maybe it will be."

Chris pulls him closer, kissing his mouth once more, sweeter this time with no hint of tongue. Darren wonders at Chris' sudden change in mood but he follows his lead. He instinctively rolls his hips down against Chris' crotch and is rewarded with Chris' hands gliding down the muscles of his back. As one of Darren's hands grips Chris' hip, he kisses his mouth and then drags his lips away to brush against Chris' chin and along his jaw. He kisses down Chris' neck and can't resist sucking at the sensitive raised scar at the base. But he doesn't stay there too long, instead nuzzling at Chris' collarbone before mouthing down his chest.

"God, you taste so good," Darren murmurs, pausing to look up at Chris' face.

Chris just smirks at him. "Well, don't stop now."

Like that, the Chris that he loves is back, the one that Darren isn't constantly destroying but is instead putting back together.

Darren doesn't say anything, only glances down at Chris' fly and then back up at his face.

"It's okay," Chris tells him, his hands falling away for a moment. "Whatever you want."

"No, whatever _you_ want, babe. I'm fixing this."

"It's a start," Chris answers with a soft grin, briefly threading his fingers through Darren's curls. "I kind of just want you to touch me."

"Oh. Okay. Like this?"

Darren kisses along Chris' waistband before cupping him over his pants.

"Yeah. Yes." Chris groans, arching his hips up. "M-more."

Darren keeps massaging Chris, feeling him grow harder under the touch. His own cock twitches to life as he watches Chris' eyes squeeze shut and his mouth twist up in pleasure. After rubbing him a little longer, Darren licks his lips and asks, "Can I take them off you, please?"

"Uh huh," Chris responds without even opening his eyes.

Darren's heart flutters in anticipation, like a teenager who's seeing his partner for the first time. With nervous fingers, he helps Chris shimmy out of his pants and then slowly slips his underwear down to his knees, just enough to gain access. Chris' dick springs out, even more beautiful than he remembers.

All he can do is stare, trying to commit every thick, flushed inch to memory for when he's stuck a world away from this. The flush spreads up Chris' chest to his face, a picture of frustration.

"Are you gonna actually do something, Dare?"

"Yeah, yeah. I just--Thank you. I--" he swallows and pauses but Chris interrupts.

"Don't," he says, clutching Darren's wrist. "Just be here right now. Please."

"Okay, okay. I need, um, fuck. Give me a sec." He looks around the room and luckily there's a bottle of lotion on the end table behind Chris' head. He leans over, his naked chest pressing to Chris' own and it feels so right he wants to cry. He grabs the bottle with his free hand and buries his face in Chris' shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Mmm." He answers, muffled into Chris' skin. "Never better."

After kissing Chris' shoulder, he pulls back and gathers himself together again, giving Chris a watery grin. 

"I'm all yours," Darren tells him, trying not to think about how that's not really true, that soon he'll be off to somewhere else with someone he doesn't even really like anymore. Instead, he squeezes some lotion into his hand and throws the bottle beside them, focusing on Chris' moans as he strokes him over and over. He reaches down to the base and rubs his thumb over his balls, listening to Chris' little gasps. He goes back up and swipes his thumb over the head that's leaking precum and can't help bending down to taste it with his tongue. He wishes he could swallow Chris down and flood his mouth with him but for now, this will have to do.

"Fuck, Darren. C'mere," Chris practically begs. 

He sits up but keeps jerking Chris off as he leans in closer. Chris' hand lands on his neck, pulling him in for a harsh kiss on the mouth. Darren runs his tongue between Chris' lips, which welcomingly open up for him; he deepens the kiss and slips his tongue inside while loosely gripping Chris' cock. Darren's own cock strains in his pants and he needs to grind down against Chris' thigh for some relief.

Chris' fingers dig into the back of Darren's neck as Darren pulls away to catch his breath.

"'M gonna--" Chris starts and then he's spilling between them, panting out a curse along with Darren's name. "Oh, God, wanna--"

"'S okay. I got it," Darren assures him.

Once Chris is done, Darren takes his hand off of him and shoves it down his own pants, jerking off fast and hard until he comes, a little of it landing on Chris' stomach. He collapses, not even bothering to clean up and inhaling the intoxicating scent of their sex and sweat.

They let silence fill the room, staying where they are until Chris' arm awkwardly wraps around Darren's upper back and his lips ghost along Darren's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," Darren apologizes. "I should've chosen you. I wanted to choose you."

"I know. It's not all your fault. I should've fought you harder."

"This isn't on you, Chris. It's all me. I love you but I let other shit get in the way. We could have had this the last three months, the last three years if I wasn't so stupid."

"True. You are kinda dumb but I love you too."

Chris pecks him on the cheek but Darren turns his head, bringing their mouths together for a long, slow kiss where Darren finally lets himself feel Chris' love again.

Darren can't help smiling as he pulls away to ask, "So what the hell do we do now?"

"Well, I have to go to L.A. in a few hours so I should get back to my hotel."

"And I have to get to Italy," Darren says between kisses, "but I have almost everything packed so we have some time."

"Mmm. When are you gonna sleep?"

Darren continues trailing a path down Chris' neck and whispers against his skin. "Tonight, never. We're celebrating."

"What?"

"Love."

Darren can practically feel Chris roll his eyes but he continues anyway, finally satisfied to be where he belongs.

\----

A shower and two blowjobs later, Chris reluctantly leaves and Darren tells him to be careful.

"You too," Chris advises.

"We'll be okay. We'll figure it out."

Darren kisses his nose and then his mouth, hoping his words ring true as they split apart once more.

They'll find each other again.

Until then, Darren will watch the other half of his heart disappear into the city and retreat to California while he heads even further away.

Now it's time to face the rest of the world and plan what's next. Hopefully it'll involve Chris. 

He can't wait.


End file.
